


Anamnesis

by SoaringJe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Kinda, POV Third Person, Professor Hermione Granger, Semi-Slow Burn, Time Shenanigans, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 14:52:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoaringJe/pseuds/SoaringJe
Summary: "You will live a life of regret.""Will I have saved others?"The Seer nodded.She lifted her chin, proud and unyielding. "Then so be it."Old eyes could only watch her leave. "What an unfair world we live in..." mused the Seer on her deathbed. But she didn't have to accept it.





	Anamnesis

It was a considerable weight—the expectations, hopes, and faith tied to her name—draining as much as it was motivating, such that there always seemed to be more work than energy to complete that work...but beyond the everpresent fatigue, Minerva McGonagall had to wonder at just how desperate the Department of Mysteries was. She sighed as she flicked the letter to one of the few vacant sections on her desk. She would compose and send a polite but firm refusal of the Unspeakables’ request shortly before the public Ministry closed. Perhaps it would even deter them from visiting.

 _Unlikely._ Minerva swallowed a scoff, plucking the next letter from the pile when she paused, emerald eyes snapping to peer over square frames.

Across the room, the gargoyle on the door shifted. Her free hand waved the statuette away, the unadorned wooden surface of the door melting into a familiar view: the hall outside the Headmaster’s office, courtesy of the public gargoyle’s eyes. The display had scarcely settled before a figure turned the corner. 

Minerva blinked. Had time gotten away from her so? A silent _tempus ostentus_ proved that yes, yes it had. 

She replaced the unopened letter in the pile, eyes briefly flickering across her office; but it was as it had always been since she had settled into the position: austere in comparison to Dumbledore’s—his portrait’s eyes twinkling at her in place of his collection of knicknacks—with touches of personal warmth, such as a tartan quilt and her tin of ginger newts. Albeit her desk was messier than usual, as she was in the middle of sorting her daily correspondence, but it was satisfactory. 

“Professor McGonagall is expecting me,” Minerva heard, the statement magically projected from the hallway gargoyle. She felt a barely-noticeable twinge as Hogwarts probed her magic, before her view of the hallway faded, wood returning to the fore as the hallway gargoyle sprung aside, a movement simultaneous with the inner gargoyle returning to the door. She heard stone shift and grind as the passage opened; in contrast, the worry creasing her brow was carefully shuttered away behind a professional mien.

Sure they had kept a polite, academically-engaging exchange of letters since parting ways, but a personal visit from one of the Golden Trio? Minerva wasn’t sure what to expect; and given their eventful lives, she felt her worry was justified.

But for all that she had no expectations, her former cub still managed to surprise her, an ebony brow lifting at the opening question: “What made you decide to be a teacher?”

“Are you unhappy at the Ministry?” Minerva asked in turn.

Hermione Granger shifted, brown eyes skittering away. “I am able to do good work there,” she said.

Minerva knew this. “For many creatures, there have been great strides towards a fair legal system.” She kept her voice warm with subtle pride and was rewarded with a fleeting smile. Perhaps another would not have noticed, but Minerva...

She knew she was distant. She knew that her personal life, her history, was much like Albus’ had been: shrouded in mystery. She knew people saw her as a Professor first, and a person second. 

She had spent years cultivating that image, building up walls because it was _easier._ And she supposed it worked, as she survived and was still...moving forward.

But was it worth it?

“After graduating from Hogwarts, I entered the employment of the Ministry,” Minerva began abruptly. Hermione looked back at her, eyes wide; Minerva saw blue eyes crinkle in her periphery. “Two years in that job, and it felt like my life had fallen to shambles.” 

Miss Granger started. Minerva’s youth had some startling parallels to the rising Ministry star who recently—and very publicly—broke up with one Mr. Weasely. 

“My former Professor found me,” Minerva continued, spinning her tale albeit light on details. She swallowed. “I was, unhappy.” It hurt, remembering this time of her life, the mindset she had then. “I knew that, but I could not understand _why:_ I was doing _good_ ; I was helping people...why wasn’t that enough? Other people were happy, why couldn’t I be? I thought there must have been something wrong with _me.”_ And part of her cried out at letting herself be so vulnerable, at peeling back the curtain and letting someone see her weaknesses and insecurities, allowing a glimpse at the girl before there was the professor. But she looked in brown eyes and there was a light there now, an understanding: she _remembered_ that light sparking in her own eyes. 

“He looked at me and said, ‘My dear, there is nothing wrong with _you.’”_ If she could only convey _half_ of the sincerity, warmth, and kindness she remembered… “‘You’re not like them, and that is neither a flaw of you or them.’” Emerald eyes twinkled. “‘People walk different paths; perhaps it is merely time to try another.’” 

Hermione’s smile was like the breaking of dawn after a storm.

This. 

_This_ was worth it.

* * *

When Hogwarts’ gates activated with an access code, Minerva had to wonder how on earth the Unspeakables thought this was worth it. Going so far as to send the head of the Time Division—she recognized the magical signature entering the code—to personally visit and badger the headmistress of Hogwarts, for what? To study a necklace her great-grandmother had willed her?

Yes, her great-grandmother had been an expert on Time magic, and the necklace did have an hourglass with sand in it, but _honestly._

Minerva shook her head even as the Unspeakables—a pair of them she saw when she glanced out the window—made their way up to her office.

At least she had finished her correspondence. And unexpectedly filled the last teaching position. 

Minerva smiled.

It faded as the passage opened once more. She held a small box in her hands. 

The Unspeakables entered.

“Professor, I—” Well, _one_ of them had the good grace to look sheepish.

The other had her sighing and opening the box. She had scarcely seen the other woman, especially after all of the Ministry’s Time-Turners were destroyed—but a glance was all it took to know she still valued time too much to waste it; so Minerva cut right to the point. “Sherry, was this what you had been asking after?” 

Minerva lifted it out by its chain, the world seeming to hush as it surfaced.

It was beautiful. 

It had no place on Professor McGonagall.

Sometimes it felt like most of Minerva didn’t either.

“It is just a slow-falling trinket,” McGonagall told the Unspeakables, holding it up to catch the light so they could peer at the hourglass. When she had first received it, most of the sand grains had been in the upper bulb. It was only now, decades later, that all the grains had migrated down.

“As far as you know,” Sherry returned; and Minerva almost bristled, but _she_ did not make a career out of unraveling mysteries. “And you know that I doubt that.” Sherry stepped closer. She sounded so confident, examined the necklace so intently that Minerva found herself doing the same.

Minerva had been mistaken: not all of the grains had fallen.

There was one left.

It descended as if sinking down to the depths of the sea.

Minerva felt both like she was underwater sinking beside it _and_ as if she was about to launch up and out.

Her magic swelled.

 

She watched the grain fall.

 

The Unspeakables could only watch as Minerva McGonagall did as well.

**Author's Note:**

> rushed like the latter two-thirds of it. am taking summary suggestions, Unspeakable name suggestions, great-grandma name suggestions, idek suggest any n everything. what is planning


End file.
